Slowly, the tension dissipated, people resumed to be enamored with their nonsensical conversations and the bar returned to its prior state - not that it was better compared to when chaos errupts. He began to speak, riding along the melodious mockery that she threw his way, not to offend but to test the waters. Midori like it when they play along. She especially likes it when they make an effort to do so. She straightens up, both hands on the counter top as she waited for his concoction of choice. āA polite dom, rare around here. Sweetie, tell me more.ā She teases before downing the shot, feeling the hot liquid cascade down her throat. Nothing says refreshing than slow alcoholic death! She lingers in the sensation for a little bit before licking her lower lips dry.
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Her snarky remarks jabbed right into his heart and he suppressed the urge to hold his hand over his heart, playing more into their little game, whatever was going on here. The more time he stared and listened to what she had to say, the more that he was finally starting to piece the nonsensical puzzle in his head back together. She was very familiar to him, yet for whatever reason it seemed a little different also, he couldnāt quite put his finger on it. Being called sweetie though, whether it was meant as a careless comment or compliment Wonjae still enjoyed the feeling that rose from his chest when he heard that word. Either he was getting a little smitten or he needed to get out more, like a lot more. It was probably the latter.
Wonjae continued to look at her as he moved away, taking both their glasses in hand. Another shot would probably do the trick and then they could move onto something else, something a little more exciting. Wait, what? Did he hear that right? Cheating Husband? Well he certainly wasnāt expecting that. Putting down the glass that he had in his hand he returned to whoever this girl was.Ā āIām sorry about that?ā he spoke, posing it more of a question than an actual statement. It probably came off a little more arrogant and cold-hearted than he intended, he was just in a little bit of shock at what he was hearing. A few small chuckles left his throat, chuckles filled with the kind of awkwardness that wouldnāt go unnoticed, surely. He almost feels like just going home until he hears that sheās kidding, thankfully.Ā āOh, youāre a little bit of a joker I see. Guess I should keep my eye on you then.ā
āIām a little disappointing though. A cheating husband would of been huge here. Of course, Iām glad itās not true.. Maybe just a little..ā At this point the vodka had been completely forgotten and his attention was solely on the women in front of him. She was clearly different than the usual rabble that came in here. Dare he say, interesting? At least a little more interesting than the other customers who just sat around for hours doing nothing, only having bought one drink might he add.
Midori? Midori was her name? It was weird since that name didnāt ring any sort of bell. Either this person was not who he was thinking of or she didnāt introduce herself like that the last time they had met. It was also possible that this was all a fever dream and wasnāt really happening at all but the look that she was giving him defiantly said otherwise.Ā āYou donāt look like a Midori.. Actually, isnāt there Japanese alcohol called Midori? Is that why youāre looking at me with this intoxicating glare? Or are you planning on killing me? To be honest, either way is fine for me.ā
Another ping to his heart when she finished speaking. She was here for him, how cute. Or rather quite psychotic. He was kind of hoping it wouldnāt really go there, or was he? Just thinking about it was quite exciting actually. Whatever was occurring to Wonjae was clearly egged on by that vodka shot he had just consumed. She was looking at him with this glare, almost as if she was waiting for something, waiting for him to say or do something. It was odd to say the least and Wonjae couldnāt help but be drawn into it. He moves closer, his elbow resting on the counter-top with his chin placed neatly in the palm of his hand.Ā āIs Midori youāre real name?ā
Staying there for a few moments, he looked into her eyes perhaps hoping to see a waver of some kind to see if she was telling the truth or not. Nothing came of it of course. Sometimes he hated having to wear a name-tag, that meant that everyone was always a step ahead of him. They always knew his name but not the other way around.Ā āāAnyway... It doesnāt really matter..ā he spoke, moving away from the counter top, eyeing the glasses he had previously places elsewhere.Ā āCan I get you another drink, Midori?ā
Hereās a nice sentence meme for our firstĀ āofficialā official meme for 20smthng. This meme (based on this meme) will run from January 22nd until January 30th, so please do not reblog or send it after then though you may continue to answer the memes you may have. Reminder that this does not count towards activity, but simply a fun activity for everyone and to help keep the dash moving!
So after tumblr decided to delete my plots page for an unknown reason, I have returned with some more. You can find them here! If we arenāt in the middle of plotting and youāre interested in picking one up just have a look and send me a message and we can sort something out.
Her day began just like just any day would. Late. Never ask Midori what day of the week it was because sheāll just pretend she didnāt hear you. For as long as she could remember, she never cared enough to know about days of the week, or what time of the day it was. There was no right time to do anything. She does what she has to do when she wants to. If anyone cared to ask, the only clock that mattered is her body clock. And if anyone dared ask why, the answer is plain and simple: time is not an absolute concept. No one is ever going to be on time if you think about it. And so as she poured herself another bowl of cereal, the idea of having a wall clock became absurd. She grabbed an dirty cup from the sink and threw it on the ticking garbage hanging by her fridge. She turned on her heel as the glass shattered on the kitchen floor.
Dressed and ready, she began the long walk to where one Kang Wonjae works at. It wasnāt the best of places, heck, the place is sketchy. And she swore someone had died there recently. Weeks prior, she wouldnāt be caught dead in that bar, but it was a diamond in the rough. There were fist fights whenever she was there! Scratch that, she was there because there were fist fights. Fist fights are always fun. Drunken fights are even better; you never know what theyāll do the next. Drunken fights with one Kang Wonjae pretending to be referee when he just obviously wants to hit something silly for the sake of was even better. What a character he is, Kang Wonjae! Just the thought of it made her want to be there every night, if only they had better music, sheād consider making it her go-to place. Now, Midori just had to know if he can handle her crazy like she can with his.
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Bearing round the corner to behind the bar he took a look at who was still there. Luckily the altercation didnāt cause anyone to leave, he was obviously handed a saving grace of some kind. He continued to hold his hand over his nose, just for a few moments to make sure that the bleeding had stopped. Spoiler, it did. The worst part to get punched in the face was the nose, he would be behind that statement for life. Getting hit in the eye would hurt a little but it would have to be a surprisingly hard hit for your eye to start bleeding, with Wonjae just a simple touch of his nose would cause it to start bleeding. Perhaps that was just a sign that he had been in too many fights and his nose was actually starting to reject getting hit, noses can do that, right?
Grabbing a small napkin he wiped the bottom of his nose, managing to pick up most of the blood onto the napkin, the blood that had already started to dry couldnāt be removed so easily. Usually he would of made a sarcastic comment about what a waste of time blood was and how stupid it was that blood could come out of a persons nose, but a sarcastic comment would have to wait. After all, he was already feeling a tad lightheaded, he didnāt need to give himself a headache from his own words.
It took a few moments to even recognise that someone was talking to him. Turning to them he gave them a quick twice over, it was defiantly not the first time he had seen this particular person.Ā āIām waiting on my Oscar nomination for that performance, Iām pretty sure itās in the mail on its way to me. Gandhi aināt got nothing on me, let me tell you,ā he replied, a small grin in place of his previous grimace from what had just transpired. Although he knew this individual, her name escaped him. Did it begin with an M? Or was it a C? It didnāt matter, it would come to him in a minute.
Wonjae always remembered customers that came frequently, he liked to call it one of the many reasons why this bar was one of the best. Opposed to the typical fight here and there, this place didnāt really have all that much going for it. Except for Wonjae of course, he was the main attraction, second to his bloody nose.
Something strong he could do, alcohol was the best medicine for a post fight celebration. Well that or drinking straight up gasoline but that option probably isnāt the best way to go, maybe for if you lose the fight though. Wonjae didnāt lose though, he never did. Perhaps they could start with some vodka, just straight up vodka. After that they could maybe drown their sorrows in some pure ethanol, that would surely get them to where they wanted to be. Grabbing two shot glasses he filled 1/3rd of them with vodka.Ā āSorry if you donāt like vodka, Iām the bartender, so whatever I say goes Iām afraid,ā he spoke, giving a quick wink before downing the drink in one swift motion. Technically he shouldnāt even be drinking but who cares for technicalities at a time like this. A customer wanted a drink and he was happy to oblige.
āYou know I never asked you before... Usually thereās only one pretty thing in this place...ā Wonjae, naturally. āBut todayās thereās two and I aināt talking about the couple right next to us. So... What keeps you coming back?ā He would of liked to think it was his expertise in serving the best drinks aloud, but he wouldnāt be able to say that without holding back a good chuckle so he left it alone. Plus he was curious considering that the was something about her that struck him as odd. He couldnāt quite put his finger on it but it was as if she was holding something from him, well a name mostly considering he couldnāt remember. That reminded him, he should probably ask her again but what kind of a person would he be if he didnāt remember someoneās name? Perhaps keeping quiet was the best course of action, hopefully she would say her name again, avoiding any awkward stares between the two.
Weekends were both a blessing and somewhat of a curse for Wonjae. On one hand they provided ample breathing time since it was never usually that busy, something which was both confusing (since it was the weekend) and quite welcoming. The curse being that whenever people did enter the bar, it was usually the individuals who wanted to a fight with someone else. To Wonjae this was never a problem due to multiple reasons, one being that he was always able to defend himself and it was kind of fun at the end of the day. That being said, it was never great when he had multiple people in the bar at the same time fights happened. They would either just leave when one broke out or would join in, which was never good for anyone.
He had just finishing serving one of his regular patrons, a smile on his face and a cheery tone always went a long way when serving customers. He had been doing this job for almost four years, technically since he was underage and he had to admit that he had pretty much mastered the craft.
A few drinks handed out here and there and the night was shaping up to be quite uneventful, par for the course he thought to himself. His eyes were always looking though, for the chance that something were to happen. If something did happen he was always the type of person to act quickly and sort the situation as it presented itself. After all, intoxicated individuals were sometimes unreadable, they could do anything at any point. Plus he had to stay sober so he might as well be the responsible one, that and he could potentially lose his job too. That wouldnāt be too good. He tried not to think about it too much, after all he tended to leave people alone for what it was worth.
Turns out something would occur that night and it only took another hour from when he first thought about it. An argument had erupted. From what he could gather since it was hard not to hear what was going on, an insult was thrown and another one was retorted. You know, the usual garbage. The situation didnāt look like it would spiral out of control so he left it alone... Boy, what a mistake that was.
Before he knew it he was almost on the ground, attempting to grab one of the men and pull them away from the other. His face had already beenĀ āaccidentallyā punched, it felt more like an elbow but that wasnāt what was important here.Ā āCan you cut this the fuck out please, itās really not worth it,ā he tried to yell, over the barking tones of the other two. They were both ready too rumble and from the looks of the others in the bar they seemed to be somewhere between disgusted and enthralled by what was unfolding in front of them.
The tumble occurred for what seemed like another five minutes as Wonjae stumbled from them to the ground and vice versa. More fists were thrown and more insults were hurled, a couple at Wonjae himself. The attention was almost gratifying but it wasnāt the time to start feeling good about himself. It almost seemed like this was going to turn into a three-way fight and if there was a way that he wasnāt interested in, it was a three-way.
By the time that blood was dripping down his face he decided that enough was enough. What resulted was what could only be described as a fumbling of fists as Wonjae himself entered the fray. By the time he had thrown his sixth punch he knew he would have a black-eye in the morning and a sore head to boot. One guy was already on the ground, holding his nose as Wonjae attempted to stare down the other patron, to no avail. Inching forward he threw his last fist, connecting the guy square in the jaw. As he watched the guy stagger to the ground he held his nose for a moment, attempting to recollect himself for a few moments.Ā āBoth of you, get the fuck out.ā And before he knew it, it was over. With blood on the floor and a couple of chairs on their side he knew this was going to be no easy matter to explain to his boss, especially if he turned up with a black-eye.
āFor the next ten minutes, free drinks on me,ā he muttered, making his way behind the counter. Drunk people were the worst, he thought for what must of been the sixth day in a row.
Hello everyone! After lurking around for what seemed like an eternity itās exciting to be here. Iām Dylan and itās great to meet you all and I hope Iāll be able to chat with you sometime in the future. Iām bringing you Wonjae who can only be described as slightly damaged. Just a smidge. Iām currently working on a plot page so that will be up some time soon. Here is a link to his background if youāre curious. It also has the spark-notes but Iāll list them below as well as some facts about him. If anyone would like to plot with their muse then just give this post a like and I shall journey over to your IM's and we can talk there!
Spark Notes
Born into a family that clearly wonāt last. His mothers a joke and his fathers a saint by all accounts, they try to make it work though.
Dad leaves, Wonjae and his mother are turned upside down looking for a way to cope hoping that heāll come back.
His dad comes back. Wonjae gets confirmation that heāll probably never see him again until heās much older, strangely heās okay with that.
His mother becomes more unhinged. Wonjae starts to learn to take care of himself without his mothers help. Becomes more independent.
Gets picked on at school for things out of his control, enjoys it because heās finally receiving attention from someone.
Leaves home at eighteen, doesnāt look back and doesnāt think about his mother until a month later. Doesnāt have plans to ever see her again.
Moves from place to place just trying to get by. Locates where his fathers staying and stays with him for a bit. His father doesnāt seem like a bad guy, he enjoys his company.
Gets a job at a sleezy bar so he can afford a place to stay, they never ask for his age so he never gives it to them. They tend to leave him alone unless they need a drink, Wonjae likes that.
Meets a girl and a guy, thinks he falls in love but turns out it was just lust. Enjoys having them around, they become his best friends.
Wonjae is happy, at least for the moment. He wouldnāt trade it for the world.
Facts:
Works as a bartender in quite a shady bar, itās quite harmless though if you stick with him.
Loves getting into fights, he has a bit of a bloodthirst for it. AKA, heās a bit weird. HE WAS NEVER LOVED, i love him though.
Heās kind of more interested in his own bubble than the outside world.
Heās super interested in insects, he likes to nurse injured ones back to health if he finds any. AKA, again heās super weird.
Likes learning random words in languages he doesnāt know to try and pick up people at the bar he works at. Sometimes it works, others not.
Related to getting into fights, he has a bit of a fetish for feeling pain. Totally not his fault though, blame his family.
His friend circle is pretty small, come love him a little.
He may or may not hand out free drinks if you give him a little *winky winky* if you know what I mean. Iām talking hugs of course.
Heās a serial smoker, canāt be caught without a cig in his mouth. If you do count yourself lucky.
Actually can be a bit of a fluff ball when he wants to.
Although he may not seem it, he is extremely set on allowing people to live the way they want. If someone challenges someone about their way of life they donāt agree with, heāll defend you to the end. Heāll do it even if he doesnāt like you.
Has a pet goldfish named bubbles.
Wants a career in looking after insects, heās not sure what thatās called.
And finally the most important fact about him.
His favourite musician is.....
............................................
Crazy frog. Joke, itās literally any american country singer ever. He eats country music for breakfast, dinner and tea.
If you have read to the very end I appreciate it and thank you.
I always tend to go a little overboard on posts like these. I hope you donāt mind it.
